Sins of the Father
by SuperPsychoNutcase
Summary: Wendell Granger just thought his daughter would like the egg-shaped rock. How was he to know that the second he bought it, he had signed the death warrants of himself, his wife, and her father. How was he to know that Hermione would never be the same?
1. Chapter 1

AN: Here is another story up for the vote of continuation. Read it and enjoy.

Disclaimer: The only thing that's mine here is the plot.

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Chapter 1

Gift

Wendell shut the trunk of his car and started for the front door of his home. Since the birth of Hermione Sylvia, Wendell and Monica Granger hadn't been able to travel together as they once did. In fact, this was his first time being apart from his sweet Nickie and his little song bird, Sylvia. Hermione was only four and Monica couldn't leave her baby behind with some stranger. Family and friends refused to babysit her after the… incidents; a series of strange occurrences around his daughter that defied all logical explanation. These… events were quite harmless really. Making toys float here, changing room colors there, and a few other bits of innocent things that any child would fancy themselves doing if they were capable. However harmless these events, it was enough to scare off every person Wendell and Monica trusted around their baby girl. Even the local daycare refused to take her after Hermione, his little Sylvia, had entertained a bunch of homesick and crying children by making the toy animal figurines move and act like the creatures they were modeled after.

The children were amused. The adults were not.

Because of this, the Granger dentists were unable to attend conferences in other countries to give their famous speeches on dental care. That was until three weeks ago when their stand-in had a family emergency and had to visit his ailing grandmother in-law. Wendell could find no one else, and decided to go to the convention. Alone.

Wendell was never happier to see home with its off white walls and the front door that was horrid shade of green and the strange snake lawn ornaments. Monica had a strange fixation on the slimy beasts. She said she had dreams of them being a big part of her daughter's life. Of course Wendell would have none of it. He thought snakes were vicious, bloodthirsty beasts that would sooner bite than leave you alone.

All thoughts of scaled nightmares vanished, however, when the door opened and a curly haired toddler waddle-ran down the walkway with the biggest grin on her face while shouting, "Daddy! Daddy!"

"My little songbird!" Wendell bent over and swooped up his offspring with one arm. He pressed countless kisses into her gold-brown hair, making her giggle and squeal in delight. Her mother, a brown haired beauty joined them and took the place for Wendell's affection. "Hello darling. Surprised?"

The woman grinned. "I am! I thought you'd be another week!"

Wendell laughed merrily. "Daryl came and took over for me. His grandmother in-law died in her sleep and he was more than willing to get away from his wife's psychotic family."

Monica shook her head in mock derision. "Men."

"Hey, I don't blame him! Dementia is one he… heck of an illness. I wouldn't want to hang around an elder with it either!"

"Daddy!" Both parents turned their attention to their daughter. "Present?"

Wendell arched an eyebrow. "A present? You think I have a present for you?"

The little girl nodded, still grinning from ear to ear.

"Well only good girls get presents. Were you a good girl for mommy while daddy was away?" Wendell already knew the answer. Hermione was a good child. She was well behaved (most of the time) and gladly followed the rules. She showed signs of being quite intelligent and enjoyed learning. Wendell and Monica knew they were blessed, though the sporadic bursts of… strange they could live without.

"I've been good! Promise!"

"I know." Wendell kissed her forehead before setting her down and reached into his coat pocket for her belated birthday gift. He almost missed the warm season down south. It could get quite chilly in London during October. "Alright! Ready to see what I brought you from the great plains of India?"

"Daddy! Plains are as… as-so-ci-ated with Africa!"

"Yes they are, but there are plains in India as well. Now are you ready?" He palmed the rock in his pocket. When little Sylvia nodded, he pulled it out with flourish. "Ta da! Something new and pretty for your collection!"

Hermione squealed in delight and took the rock for evaluation. It was small, the size and shape of a chicken egg and polished to perfection. The surface was smooth and the colours almost fog-like in appearance, blues and greens and even hints of purple swirled together, mixing and separating once again. It was as if the shell was made of glass and the coloured smoke was trapped inside, restless and always moving. A trick of the light most likely. Wendell was stunned by the brilliance of the stone when he first saw it and knew a certain toddler would love its colors. He was a little creeped out that it had been sitting beneath a big frog, but that was the stall owner's pet and Wendell didn't want to insult him by saying it was unsanitary to let a frog touch the merchandise. "It's so pretty!"

"It is! Why don't you go add it to your collection of random things."

"They're not random! They're all important to me!" Hermione pouted her perfectly pink, cupid bow lips up at her father before returning to her examination of her new rock. Her brow furrowed in the cutest manner and she looked up at her father in wonder. "I think it's an egg!"

Wendell and Monica, adults and very grown up, _knew_ that no egg looked like that rock but humoured their daughter's imagination. The counselor said it was good to encourage creativity in children. "I bet it is, songbird. Let's hope that it doesn't hatch, though. We already have two cocker spaniels and we don't need any more pets. Where are those dogs anyway? They're usually jumping all over me when I get home."

Monica nodded at the house. "In the back yard. Hermione dear, run along inside now. Daddy and I need to get started on dinner."

Hermione appeared as annoyed as a four year old could, cupping the stone gently. "But it is an egg! I can feel the baby's heartbeat and everything!"

"That's nice dear. Now off to your rooms." Wendell shot his wife a look and she returned it. This is the first time they'd been apart since before they were married. They thanked god again for blessing them with a child that was happy to stay in her rooms and entertain herself.

Very blessed indeed.

Hermione left her parents outside, mentally commentating on their dismissal of her discovery. Hermione puffed out her chest. She had learned those adult words from listening to her mother conversing with other adults. She was praised when she said them outloud and in the right… context.

The egg thrummed in her hand and Hermione rubbed the shell with her thumb. "Don't worry! I'll take care of you until you hatch! I hope you'll stay after you hatch, though. I don't much like the dogs. Their claws hurt and they're really annoying."

The egg thrummed in response and Hermione was satisfied. She entered her room and made a warm nest to incubate the egg. Hermione knew it wouldn't be long before it hatched. She could feel it.

Meanwhile, in the magical world, a team of Aurors were apprehending a Dark Wizard for illegally breeding Basilisks and selling them to Muggles. All of the eggs were recollected and destroyed for the public's safety.

All but one.

VHK

Hermione woke up the next morning to a miracle.

The egg had hatched and amid the pile of shirts was a beautiful baby snake. Its skin was black and it had a crest of blue and green feathers on the top of its triangular head. It opened its slitted yellow eyes and hissed in greeting. Hermione felt her body freeze up for a moment, but it passed quickly. Her body shivered in unease. Hermione had a feeling that she had just had a brush with death and lived to tell the tale.

The snake watched her for a spare few moments before slithering over to the window and disappeared into the backyard and into the yonder. Hermione was a little sad to see the baby go, but a little relieved as well. She thought it would be a bird of some kind anyway. She didn't know how to care for a snake! It would probably be better off in the wild. Hermione went about her life as normal.

Well, as normal as a muggleborn child's life can go.

Three years passed and Hermione soon became ostracized by her peers. Adults liked her quite nicely as she was incredibly clever and witty, preferring to converse with her teachers than with children her own age. This only made her more unpopular and Hermione turned into a victim of bullying. Children made fun of her name, her intelligence, her overly large teeth, her bushy hair, her near sugar-free diet, her clothes, and her lack of friends. Hermione, already an introverted child, curled further into herself and hid away from her cruel classmates. She spent her time reading and studying, learning new things that she may or may not need to know one day.

Daddy always told her to be prepared.

Hermione was very lonely, but books kept her company and the occasional animal that she didn't dare tell anyone that she could understand. Soon enough, her teachers realized her astounding intellect and Hermione found herself skipping two years of grade school. However, a seven year old amongst nine and ten year olds was not welcome. Especially when she got the highest grades.

Hermione was walking home one day, her school uniform torn, bookbag held together by mere threads, missing a shoe, covered in bruises and bleeding, when she saw a strange man. The male was heavily scarred, his pale skin a physical representation of each of his triumphs over death. His right eye, a flinty gunmetal gray, was overshadowed by his much larger left eye that swiveled restlessly in it's socket and seemingly held in place by a black band secured over his straw blond hair. He was using a tall, wooden staff to hold himself up as one of his legs was obviously fake. He was dressed in strange, dark green robes and she could smell the sharp scent of alcohol from her spot not ten paces away from him. Hermione deduced that either someone had spilled it on him earlier or this strange man was a heavy drinker. She confirmed the latter when she saw him pull out a flask and drink from it greedily.

All thoughts of shameful vices disappeared when that large, blue eye landed on her. The man stiffened and put his flask away. His brow furrowed and and he turned to regard the girl with scrutiny. "You eyein' me, lassie?"

Hermione, embarrassed at getting caught, shook her head wildly and looked past him. She was one block away from her house. She was already running late due to being jumped by her older classmates. Maybe one of her parents would peek out and call her home. Or she could pretend she never saw the man and go home.

But that would mean walking right past him.

And Hermione did _not_ want to do that.

The man's shoulders lost some of their tension, but only some. He was still eying her in suspicion. His voice made her jump "What happened to you? Looks like you got into a fight with a hippogriff and lost."

She thought it strange that he brought up a supposedly mythical creature and used it in comparison to the bullies that did this to her, but she answered him anyway. "The children at school don't like me. They say I'm a kiss ass and a bookworm. I may look bad, but those buggering wankers look worse."

The man's right eye grew wide in wide in shock. After a moment of still tension, he snorted in what Hermione assumed was humour. She had a feeling it took a lot to make this scarred man laugh. "Is that so? You couldn't be a fifty pounds soaking wet. What can a tiny thing like you do?"

She stood a little straighter, insulted that this stranger had underestimated her. "I'll have you know I've got a few tricks up my sleeve! I'm a lot more dangerous than I look!"

Before he could reply, another man popped into existence beside him with a subtle **crack**. Unlike the blond and somewhat stout and scarred man, this one had dark, flawless skin. His brown eyes were kinder, his body as relaxed as a panthers. Even their clothes were vastly different. Where Mr. Alcoholic One-eye dressed in darker colors, his new companion wore bright robes resembling african attire and patterns. He opened his mouth, but closed it upon noticing the small girl having a stare off with one of the most feared Auror's in Scotland and England, arguably the whole wizarding world. "Moody, that little girl can see you. I think you're losing your touch."

The scarred man, Moody, scowled at the darker male. "Shut it, Shacklebolt! And the Disillusionment Charm is working fine! No muggles have spotted me yet!"

One of Shacklebolt's eyebrows climbed higher on his forehead. "Except her?"

"I can hear you!" Hermione was getting quite irritated with these strange men talking about her as if she weren't there. Who did they think they were barging into her neighborhood and acting as if they owned it?

Both men focused on her again. "So you can. I apologize. It was very rude of me."

"Yes it was." Hermione crossed her arms in agreement. She would not offer false comfort to someone that was in the wrong. Hermione decided to ignore Shacklebolt's abrupt arrival and not question it. She had done far weirder things, after all. She turned back to Moody. "As I was saying, I may be small, but so is the poison dart frog, and you don't see anyone trying to make a pet out of them!"

Shacklebolt's eyebrows shot up when Moody chuckled, his sneering lips drawn up into a grin. "I like you, girlie!"

Hermione shrugged nonchalantly. "Every adult likes me. It's the children that are the problem." She peered up at the two men suspiciously. "What are you doing here anyway? Did you just move in? I recall there being a house for sale two streets over."

Shacklebolt shook his head. "No. We received word of a… very dangerous creature that has been roaming about around here. We are trying to find it and capture it before it attacks any mor… people. Any people. It's very dangerous. In fact, you should head on home to your parents."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "This is the suburbs and I haven't heard of any animals escaping from the London zoo. What creature are you looking for?"

Both males gaped at the little girl and her rather logical questions. Shacklebolt, being a good diplomat and people person, recovered first and told the partial truth. "It isn't from the zoo, and you wouldn't have heard of it as it is being kept secret to avoid public panic. A man has been breeding… very big, poisonous snakes, and one has escaped. We've heard that there have been sightings in this area and we are here to catch it before it has a chance to hurt people."

Hermione pondered his explanation for a few moments. It made sense to her. If the neighborhood heard that there was a large, venomous snake slithering around, they would all lose their minds and panic. She nodded and uncrossed her arms. "That makes sense. Well, best of luck to you all. I hope you find it soon. I have to go home now."

Shacklebolt relaxed while Moody continued to eye the girl in stunned shock. "What's your name, lassie?"

Hermione stood up straight and offered her hand. "I'm Hermione Sylvia Granger."

Moody gently took her hand and gave it a firm shake. "Alastor Moody. This is my partner, Kingsley Shacklebolt."

"Nice to meet you Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt. Now, if you excuse me, it's getting rather late, and my parents are expecting me home. Good day to you both." Hermione walked past them, no longer feeling in danger for her life, and limped home. Both men watched her in awed curiosity.

"She's a sharp one."

Moody grunted in agreement. "I'm almost sad to see her go. That one'll grow up to be quite a little arse kicker."

Shacklebolt shrugged and returned to the task at hand. "Any sign of the Basilisk?"

The scarred Auror's body tensed once more as his irritation at his team's idiocy came back. "Not a bloody scale to be found! I thought you said the damn thing'd be easy to find after three years! Said it would be as big a bloody Knight Bus by now!"

Shacklebolt frowned in frustration. He wasn't happy about the team's progress either. "They're trying as hard as they can, Alastor. After three years, the Basilisk should be fully grown and very hard to miss."

Moody growled and snapped. "If I don't have that snake's head by nightfall, I'll have someone fired! Preferably every single one of those wet eared excuses you call Aurors!"

Shacklebolt, a relatively laid back person, focused on ways to solve the problem instead of complaining about the lack of progress. "Well, there is Blackthorn! I know he's a file clerk, but he's also a bloodhound Animagus! Maybe he can track the Basilisk by scent!"

Moody snorted in derision. "A desk jockey? You want to bring a desk jockey on a snake hunt? That thing'll kill him on sight!"

"All he needs to do is point us in the right direction. We can have the Ministry get him a Portkey so he can leave immediately if he feels he's in danger."

"Great! A Portkey! How long is _that_ going to take?"

"Maybe a few hours. It's the best plan we've come up with so far."

Moody didn't like it, but it was a good plan. Better than wandering around like a bunch of drunks and hoping the Basilisk would pop out for a cuppa. "Fine."

VHK

As the sun was setting, Wendell and Monica Granger were sitting at the dinner table and debating on the best course of action for their daughter. Both were upset that their little song bird had returned from school beaten up _again_ , and they were sick and tired of the private school they paid good money to teach their baby for looking the other way. _Again!_

"Oh Wendell, what are we going to do?" Monica's soothing soprano was muffled by her hands. "We can't keep going like this and Hermione can't either!"

Monica's husband took another sip from his scotch whiskey. He felt he needed it to maintain his temper. Unlike most men he knew, Wendell could handle his liquor and it actually made him more focused. Many who have shared a drink with Wendell claim that he had the odd ability to drink like a fish and still perform dental surgery perfectly. That isn't to say that he couldn't get drunk, but it definitely took a bit more than what is considered normal. "I don't know, darling."

Monica sat up and began squeezing and tugging one of Hermione's shirts that she had been folding. Monica knew Hermione prefered to do it herself, but no seven year old should be doing their own laundry. "Dad suggested a nice military school that would appreciate her intelligence and has no tolerance for bullies, but that doesn't mean it won't happen! And Hermione wouldn't survive military school! They'd be much too harsh on her!"

Wendell pried the shirt out of her hands and dropped it back in the pile. He took her hands in his and gazed into her eyes with what he hoped was reassurance. "We shouldn't underestimate Hermione, darling. She has your dad's blood in her veins and he is a war hero. I have no doubt that Hermione would excel in military school. You know how much she loves to hear dad's war stories. He's practically raising her in the art of war."

Monica was grateful that her father, a man that had fought World War Two and earned a Victoria Cross for going above and beyond that call of duty, had moved from Wales to live with the family after hearing about their babysitting problem. He was truly a blessing as he took Hermione's… accidents in stride and even thought her special for them instead of terrifying. One time, a storm had knocked out the power and they lit candles to go about their business. Father was reading a book on dragons to Hermione and she, a bright eyed five year old, stared at a group of candles until they became tiny, life-like dragons that were capable of flight and breathing fire. While Wendell and Monica groaned at yet another display of oddness from their offspring, grandpa Edmund just beamed at his granddaughter. "Hermione is just special. I have a feeling that our little songbird is destined for great things!"

Wendell, for one, agreed with old Ed. Their Hermione was very clever and would display it happily if her peers would stop degrading her for it. Wendell knew they were just jealous, but that didn't mend Hermione's scars or sooth her bruises or made her feel less lonely. If they were able Wendell and Monica would gladly homeschool Hermione, but they both had demanding careers that made good money. Grandpa Ed volunteered to do it, but that was a disaster waiting to happen. Monica loved her father, but had to admit that he was getting old and senile.

At this point, military school was their last hope.

Monica sniffled and leaned into her husband's comforting form. "I suppose we can give it a try. I'll call Hermione in sick tomorrow and we'll ask her opinion of it in the morning."

"Alright. Let's head up to bed. We're going to need clear heads if we're going to convince Hermione that military school is the best option." Wendell patted his wife's arm and polished off his scotch.

Unbeknownst to the Grangers, a giant snake, with magic known only to those like it, slithered out of their pipes and into their home.

The Basilisk emerged head first from the guest room toilet, regrowing to its original size on its way out, and nudged its way into Grandpa Edmund's room. With a flick of his tongue, he could see the heat signature of the body on the bed. The human was sound asleep. Vulnerable.

The Basilisk wasn't here for that, though. Much too large.

He, the snake, tried to slide past the bed unnoticed. Unfortunately, the muggle house was not built to accommodate extremely large snakes. The Basilisk's side had bumped into a lamp and sent it shattering to the floor. The human in the bed shot up and looked into the Basilisk's eyes. Edmund's last breath came out as a pained groan, attracting the attention of the married couple just outside.

Monica and Wendell were heading up the stairs when they heard the sound of breaking glass in the guest room that Edmund had taken over recently after moving in with them and his pained groan. "Dad?"

Wendell sighed and trekked back down the stairs, Monica following behind. "He must be sleepwalking again. I just hope he isn't dreaming of Annabelle. I hate to see that look on his face when he wakes up and realizes his wife's been dead for years."

"Wendell! Shame on you! It could be you one day!" Monica opened the door without knocking. "Dad, are you o…?"

Wendell and Monica died together, both looking into a Basilisk's fatal gaze at the same time. Wendell would never know the pain of losing a loved one.

But his daughter would.

Said girl had woken up in pain and was tending her wounds in the bathroom when she heard the ruckus. She knew her parents hated it when she stayed up late, but she wanted to know what had happened. She crept down the stairs, going slowly as to not alert her parents that she was up and moving. However, she abandoned her attempt at stealth when she saw the crumpled figures of her parents, laying beside and on each other. She rushed down the stairs, her tiny, sure feet expertly maneuvering the stairs. She collapsed on her knees beside their bodies and began to shake them. "Mum. Dad. What are you doing on the floor? Get up."

Not a moment later, the front door was blown open and a group stumbled in led by a rather nervous looking dog. Hermione recognized Moody and Shacklebolt immediately.

Shacklebolt recognized her as well. "Miss Granger?"

Hermione shot to her feet and backed away. Though they seemed friendly enough earlier, that did not make them good people. "What are you doing here?"

The bloodhound, to her amazement, turned into a man before her eyes and uttered the word 'magpie' and vanished into thin air. Moody's eye was twitching between her and the hallway behind her. "Lassie, I'm gonna need you to come over here."

She didn't like the men behind him. They looked rather jumpy. And she didn't trust the sticks they were holding towards her. They didn't… feel like normal sticks. "But my parents need help…"

"It's too late for your parents, girlie! The beast we told you about killed them and it will get you too if you don't get out of here!" It was too much for poor Hermione to handle. Her parents were dead and a group of strangers were declaring that a dangerous creature had killed them. What he said next would seal her fate forever. His normal eye, and the eyes of his companion's eyes, focused behind her and widened. "Get over here now!"

"NO!" Hermione turned and ran, hoping to escape out the back door. She took two steps before realizing something was blocking her way. A big, scaly something. She heard Moody command her to close her eyes, but she couldn't. Hermione was too busy staring at the giant, snake reared over her. His yellow eyes pinned her to the floor.

She couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. The terror of the incredibly large reptile before her had Hermione frozen in place. She whimpered in fear when the snake's maw opened to reveal long, sharp fangs dripping with saliva and venom.

"Don't just stand there, you imbeciles! Attack the blasted thing!"

The Basilisk chanced a look behind Hermione and knew his time was short. He unfolded his fangs from the roof of his mouth and lunged to sink them into the girl's flesh.

He only managed to scratch her before he was killed by a wave of curses directed at him from the horde of Aurors at the door.

There was a moment of silence. And then Hermione cried out and fell.

"Lassie!" Shacklebolt ran forward while Moody hobbled after him as quickly as his false leg would allow. Shacklebolt and Moody spotted the bloody scar and knew what it meant immediately. The scar and the skin around it held a sickly shimmer reminiscent of the Basilisk's fangs. The girl was poisoned and needed a mediwitch to tend her _now_.

Shacklebolt scooped her up in his arms while addressed his partner. "I'll take her to St. Mungo's! Clean up here and catch me up!" He spun on his heel and Apparated to the closest magical hospital. Shacklebolt knew this place well as he had come here almost every other week to stand at the bedsides of his trainees and had even been healed here once or twice himself. Shacklebolt didn't feel that sense of nostalgia as he was overwhelmed with panicked fear for the little girl writhing in agony against his torso. "Hiddleston! Get over here now!"

Mediwitches and Healers alike looked up at the usually calm Auror. A tall, lithe man with shoulder length black hair exited the office behind the desk and honed in on the female in the Wizard's arms. "What happened?!" He pulled out his wand and began casting diagnostic spells.

"Basilisk. It's fang only grazed her."

"Yeah, well, a graze is enough. I have a Basilisk victim here! I need anti-venom stat!" Mediwitches swarmed the trio and the girl was levitated out of Shacklebolt's arms and was whisked away to area's unknown. Hiddleston clasped the dark man's arm in a show of comfort. "We'll take care of her, King, but I cannot promise that she'll make it."

With that, Healer Hiddleston turned and followed after the girl.

Shacklebolt stared at the doors for several seconds, praying that the innocent muggle child would make it through the night, and left for the Ministry. He and Moody still had to give their reports.

VHK

A week had passed and things had returned to normal. As normal as a guilt-ridden Shacklebolt and unsettlingly contemplative Moody could get. Both men checked in with Hermione every morning before work and whenever they had a break, and before they went home. The poor girl was in a magic-induced coma. Hiddleston had said that they were doing the best they could for the girl, but Basilisk venom is very potent.

"It would take a miracle to help this girl. Even should we save her from the venom, the toxins have damaged her body. Even if her life is spared, she would be forever handicapped. In what way I am uncertain. I have never heard of anyone surviving a Basilisk bite. This anti-venom is relatively new. Her heart may still be beating, but I think you need to prepare yourselves for the worst."

Despite the Healer's pessimism, Shacklebolt and Moody kept their hopes up. They had seen stranger things happen. Maybe Hermione would pull through.

The Auror's were all gathered in the office to receive new cases when a wispy dolphin Patronus swam through the wall and floated in front of the best Auror's in London. "Moody, Shacklebolt, come to Mungo's at once! You're gonna want to see this!

The dolphin dissolved once its message was passed and both partners dropped their newest case files on their desks before Apparating away. They knew Scrimgeour wouldn't punish them. Not when a Healer specifically requested their presence.

Both men popped into existence in the lobby where Hiddleston sat waiting for them. The Healers and mediwitches looked nervous. Hiddleston stood up once he notice their arrival and silenced them before they could make a sound. He beckoned them to follow as he led them through the doors and down a familiar hallway. The corridor was quiet, eerily so, and empty. No Healers were walking in and out of rooms or chatting over clipboards. The tingle of magical barriers alerted the Aurors that the hall, and most likely the whole floor, was on lockdown.

Hiddleston stopped in front of door 626 and turned to address both men. "I have good news, bad news, and worse news, but I'll inform you both after you have seen our young patient. I'm sure you're both anxious to see her. Just… try not to say anything."

He opened the door before either man could question his order. They followed the Healer into the room and secured the entryway. The room was free of the potion stench that occupied every other room Mungo's had and instead smelled of berries suggesting magic use to clean and scent the air. Also unlike the usual standard of hospital room, everything was… skewed as if someone had done a rush job of straightening up. The room was clean, almost too clean, too nice, and it made the room seem… eery.

The bed, which sat in the corner, was occupied by a small waif of a girl. Who was blindfolded. Her bushy hair with curls springing every which way was secured tightly against her head above her ears and poofed out around her neck and shoulders. The top of a hospital gown could be seen clothing her torso while the rest of her from waist down was hidden by the thin but warm blanket. The girl had been listening to a Beedle the Bard book bespelled to say the words out loud, but shut the book as soon as we entered. "Hello? Dr. Hiddleston, is that you?"

The Healer approached her with a calm voice. "It's me, sweetheart. How are you feeling right now? Has the pain gone away?"

"My upper gums are still a little tingly, but I'm okay." She scrunched up her nose. "There are others in the room."

"Yes, two men who I think you've met before. Do you remember Moody and Shacklebolt? They are the ones that saved you from the Basilisk."

She nodded her head and slid the book off her lap. "I remember them."

"Good. They've been here every single day to check on you." Hiddleston turned to address the Auror's. "Try to be careful. She woke up just a few hours ago and she's in a rather delicate state. I don't want…"

Hermione did not like being referred to as delicate and snapped at the Healer. "I can hear you, idiot. And don't call me delicate! I'm perfectly fine!"

Hiddleston opened his mouth and shut it again, choosing to sit on a stool in the corner. Shacklebolt reached out to take the girl's hand while Moody watched over her, examining her with his own eyes. "You had us worried there for awhile, Miss Granger. You slept like the dead for the past week."

Her blindfold shifted as her brow rose on one side. "So I heard."

"Hermione, why don't you tell them the good news." Healer Hiddleston wore a smile on his face, but his eyes remained dim.

The girl perked up. "I found out I'm a witch today! Hiddleston said that's why I was always so different from everyone. Well, besides my intelligence. He said I will go to a magic school when I turn eleven! I'll get to learn how to cast spells and make potions! Now I can hardly wait to turn eleven! I hope I'll never have to put up with another idiot!"

Shacklebolt grinned at the news. "There are idiots everywhere you go. Even in the wizarding world."

"Especially the wizarding world." Moody grunted behind him.

Hermione giggled and yawned, and Hiddleston decided that she couldn't handle much more excitement. "Try to get some rest, Hermione. You have a busy day tomorrow."

The three men left the girl to sleep. Hiddleston led the Aurors to his office and cast privacy bubble around the room. Shacklebolt took a seat while Moody remained on his feet. "Why all the secrecy, Healer? If the girl is a witch…"

"She is a witch, but that is not the reason for our privacy." Hiddleston cut off Shacklebolt. "In just an hour or so, a team of Unspeakables will be coming to collect the girl and take her to the most secure floor of the Ministry."

Moody stiffened and scowled. "There had better be a good reason, Healer."

"It's the only choice we have. The Basilisk venom didn't kill her. It... changed her. When Hermione woke up…. I lost a mediwitch to her gaze and two others are petrified. Not only does she have the eyes of a Basilisk now, but she now has a set of retractable fangs behind her canines that are very venomous. When Hermione began to truly panic, her skin grew scales that repelled Stunners and other sorts of spells. I had to wait until she calmed down to even try speaking to her.

"Thank the gods that she is a witch. With her new… traits, she can't go back to the muggle world. She has no more family, no godparents or friends that could take her in and survive. I can't in good conscience give her to a pureblood family to care for her as she is a muggleborn and those bigots are more likely to kill than help the girl. I don't even know if she'll be able to attend Hogwarts in four years time. The Unspeakables are the only viable option, and she might just have to live the rest of her life down there with them."

Moody stamped his staff and snarled at the Healer. "That's outrageous! She's a witch! Not a bloody dark object to be studied and locked away!"

Shacklebolt, being the levelheaded diplomat, approached the situation more calmly. "Timothy, surely there is another option. What if someone were to adopt her? Someone who understands the dangers and could handle the responsibility. It wouldn't be right to seclude a bright young lady like Miss Granger into the dungeons of the Mysteries Department for the rest of her life."

Hiddleston shook his head. "It's more than just caring for her! You Know Who's followers are still out there and most not even in Azkaban. Some of them weaseled their way out of punishment and still walk among us. What do you think will happen when they find out about her? And what about the rest of the public?! You both know better than I do that the girl's Basilisk traits would cause widespread panic! They'll demand the poor girl's head on a pike! No. The best place for her is with the Unspeakables, where they can study and understand her."

"Now see here, Hiddleston!" Moody stomped his staff. "That lass has just lost her family in one night and gained deadly attributes! Yer punishing the lass for an attack that she had no control over! By all means, let the bloody Unspeakables try to cure 'er, but place her in a family and let 'er live 'er life after they've had their bloody fun!"

The Healer scoffed in derision. "Place her with who? You? You're a Hit Wizard, always on the front lines and dealing in dangerous missions. You may be able to provide the care the poor girl needs, but what will happen if you die? Where would she go then? And there's no bloody way in hell that a Pureblood family would take her. Not any I trust. I considered the Weasley family. I know Molly personally and I know she would love another daughter to care for, but placing Miss Granger amongst all those blasted children of hers, especially that little bastard called Ronald, is just asking for trouble."

"Let him take her."

Hiddleston and Moody turned at the same time. "What?"

Shacklebolt was sitting calmly in his seat. "Let Moody care for her. I know for a fact that he has been considering retiring from the field work and taking over Auror training. My partner is probably the most paranoid man I've ever met and will provide the best environment for Miss Granger to grow."

Timothy Hiddleston slumped in his seat and rubbed his eyes as if to stave off the mother of all headaches. "Forgive me for saying that Moody does not come off as a proper father figure. Especially to an orphaned girl with a literal killer glare."

"He can do it. I've had the pleasure of meeting the girl before the attack, if only briefly, and I know she is a lot stronger than you think. The last thing she needs is some stranger coddling her. I honestly think that Miss Granger would thrive under Moody's care."

The Healer groaned into his hands and let his hand drop to his lap. He looked up at Moody with a calculating gaze. "Are you willing to take responsibility for Hermione Sylvia Granger? This includes any accidents that may occur by her gaze or fangs."

"Yeah, I'll take care of the lass." Moody grunted unceremoniously.

Timothy Hiddleston sighed and pulled a stack of papers out of a drawer in his desk. Blazoned at the top of the page was the title **Request for Adoption**. "Might as well fill this out now so that you won't have to wait while the Ministry takes it's sweet time processing it. By the the time the Unspeakables are okay with sending her out into the world, you'll hopefully have full custody of her."

Shacklebolt conjured a quill and ink pot. "The paperwork must remain under the tightest security in the Mystery Departments vaults. No one must know about the girl."

Hiddleston allowed himself a smirk. "Not even the Gods will get past those wards."

VHK

It took three months for the Unspeakables to determine that there was no cure for poor Hermione Sylvia Moody. The best they could provide was a specially made goblin circlet that couldn't be removed by hand or spell unless Hermione willed it so and a pair of specially made goggles that would protect Alastor from her gaze should he ever wish to check on them. To see if the eyes affects were fading, but they didn't appear very hopeful.

Hermione was released into Moody's custody and she felt… hopeful. True she had months to mourn her family's death, and she would always miss them. Moody, Uncle Alastor as she would learn to call him, wasn't trying to take their place and was gracious enough to open his home to her. Hermione had found out through various tests just how dangerous her gaze could be. She knew that anyone else would have turned her away if they had known, but Moody knew and was willing to look past it and take care of her.

Over their first dinner together, Moody explained how Hermione's life would be from then on. He would teach her how to move, how to fight, how to cast the strongest and most complicated of spells so that she could protect herself. When the time came for her to attend Hogwarts, she would don her circlet and play her role. Her cover was simple and easy to stick to; her parents, extended family to Alastor, had a potions accident that left her blinded and scarred. She will act as if the scar was hideous and hid it from the world so that it wouldn't frighten people away. Her parent's names were Alexander and Morgana Moody. Should anyone, specifically those who had known them despite them being Aurors for the French Ministry, she could claim their memories made her sad and no one would push her. Alastor would teach her Occlumency and Legilimency so that no one could read the truth in her mind and so she could hear their doubts and sooth them.

Moody planned to groom her as a perfect Auror, for even though she could not see in the normal sense, she discovered that she could 'see' magic and heat signatures. This, Moody found, made her irreplaceable as she could see a person under a Disillusionment Charm and could 'see' the runes that made up a ward, therefore making it easier for her to take it down or change it completely.

Yes, Hermione Sylvia Moody would do just fine.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: I didn't even realize this one was finished. So... enjoy. And don't worry, I'm still working on my other stories. Waitressing is a lot more taxing than I thought and school will be kicking off for me in two short weeks.

Wish me luck.

Disclaimer: HP belongs to JK Rowling.

* * *

Chapter 2

Darkness

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Uncle Alastor was urging me forward in that subtly affectionate way of his. "Your things have been loaded onto the train, but it's not too late to back out. I can always Apparate you to Hogsmeade."

His offer was more for himself than it was for me, though it was very tempting to take him up on the invitation. I was trained to traverse all kinds of terrain blindfolded, how to block incredibly vicious spells and how to dish them back tenfold, how to make a proper shield, how dismantle and tweak wards, and how to brew all sorts of potions in the dark. Logically, I should have no trouble maneuvering the platform and train or even Hogwarts. I had been training for it ever since that first morning I woke up as a Moody.

It's just… the children.

Don't get me wrong, I have met children my own age before. However, I was always different from them. I was always too smart or too reserved to play with the others. But that was before. Now there's my lethal gaze and venom to deal with. I had no hopes that magical children would be any different from the muggle kind.

Uncle Alastor had told me the horror stories from his school days and even the stories he had only heard about. Apparently, having magic did not make children any better. In fact, it made bullies worse for they could really make their victim's life miserable. Of course there is nothing they could throw at me that I couldn't handle, but…

I haven't met a child since the day of the attack.

Not a single one.

Uncle Alastor had said that it was far too dangerous. One child could get overly curious and could talk me out of removing my circlet or try removing it themselves. Not to mention my fangs that made an appearance whenever I felt embarrassed or threatened. I also had a pretty cool ability to spit venom I discovered when the Unspeakables locked me in a cage with a Manticore.

I don't blame my Uncle. Honestly, I thought it was the best choice.

The truth is I've always been different. The Basilisk traits only gave him a reason to lock me away, only letting me out to Apparate to a special training ground just for me.

This is my first time being away from Uncle, being in a new place, and meeting magical kids my age since the… incident. Uncle even had my school supplies ordered and delivered home so that I wouldn't have to go out. It is a day of firsts for me. My only hope is that all… most of them are good firsts. Maybe I'll make my first friend today, but that's being overly optimistic.

"Agh!" A flare of magic to my right alerted me to the change of the charmed coin I made for all the Aurors so that they could communicate silently to each other. "I'm being called to the office! I bet you anything that Nymphadora is behind it. Can ya make it to the train without me, Sylvia? Don't answer that. I know you can."

I gave him my usual goodbye. "Watch your back, Uncle Al."

He grunted and patted my shoulder. "Don't watch yer back, Sylvia. People's lives depend on it. Now get on the bloody train before the platform fills up with overly emotional idiots."

He Apparated with a pop and left me alone on the platform. He brought me here earlier to avoid the masses. I very much appreciated this and swung my walking stick downward, allowing the rest of the cane to slide free from inside the hollow cylinder. I began making my way along the floor, playing my part as a blind soon-to-be student to anyone who may be watching.

I got onto the train just fine, graciously accepting help from a sweet old lady that manned the treat trolley. She gave me a free sugar quill and left me in my cabin. As soon as she was gone, I drew the shades on both windows, the one facing the platform and the one in the door, and removed my circlet. I pulled out my current book of choice and began reading. 'Hogwarts: A History' really is a great book. I had finished it twice, but one can never be too careful. I wanted to know everything about my new home away from home. Knowledge is power.

I was just finishing the last chapter, again, when I could smell other children approaching my cabin. It appears the platform was starting to get crowded and children had started boarding.

How clumsy of me.

I slipped circlet back into place and cast the simple audio charm on the book. When the door opened, I appeared as nothing more than any other blind eleven year old listening to the conclusion of a book. As soon as the words stopped, I closed the cover and tilted my head towards the newcomers. There's three of them. One smells like fresh mountain air with a hint of an expensive perfume while the other two reeked of food, cologne, and stagnant water. Perhaps they both lived near a pond? Their magic thrummed in my mind's eye in subtle whites and golds; young and raw. "Hello? Is someone there?"

"Uh… Hello?"

I dropped the book back into my bag and pulled out another one. A tap from my finger had the book stating the title in a light, airy voice. I suppose I could… listen to my Potions textbook. I didn't know what else to do. I figure that since I have no clue as how to socialize with my peers, then I had better keep my mouth shut.

"Are… Are you really...?"

"Are you blind?"

"Crabbe!"

I stroked the spine of my book. "It's fine. To answer your question, I am blind. I have been since I was seven."

The door closed and the one that smelled of mountains sat down across from me. I could barely hear the cushion give way under his body. He must be tiny. I didn't hear the other two sit down at all. "Well, um… How did…?"

"How did I lose my sight?" I figured he had nodded. Not like I can see with the circlet covering my eyes, fortunately for him. "A potion that my parents were making blew up. They died and… well, I couldn't see anymore."

"Who were your parents?"

Translated: are you a pureblood? "Alexander and Morgana Moody."

The boy gasped. "Moody? As in Mad Eye Moody?!"

I nodded slowly, not surprised that he had heard of him. "You mean my Uncle Alastor. He was kind enough to take me in after my parents died."

"Oh. I heard that he's really paranoid. Is that why I haven't seen you before?"

His voice was a little shrill and annoying, but I think I'm doing well conversationally wise. "It's true that Uncle Al can be a tad overly cautious. He just wants to keep me safe."

The atmosphere in the cabin was… relaxed. It seemed that now I've been confirmed as a pureblood of the Moody family, the boys were no longer guarded. I mean it's not like a blind girl can do much harm, right? "I know the feeling. My dad wanted to enroll me at Durmstrang, but mum wouldn't hear it. She said it was too far."

"I know of Durmstrang. Uncle Al said that it's a school that places a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts and that it was one of the most mysterious schools in all the wizarding world." And it's true. Only the teachers, students, and graduates even knew the location of the castle and all swore a magical oath to keep the location secret. Uncle Al said that the current High Master was especially suspicious. "Forgive me, but I don't think I properly introduced myself. I'm Hermione Sylvia Moody."

"Nice to meet you, Hermione." He responded immediately. "I'm Draco Malfoy. My two friends here are Crabbe and Goyle."

I bowed my head in greeting. "It's wonderful to meet you. To be honest, you are the first people I've met in my age group, so forgive me if I seem… strange."

"Wow! Really? I won't hold anything against you. In fact, I'll teach you how to maneuver social circles. By the time I'm through with you, you'll have loads of friends!"

I giggled into my hand. "Thank you for the offer, but I'd prefer to have one true friend rather than a horde of two-faced acquaintances."

The door opened again and I started to choke on the scent of heavy perfume. There was so much clogging the air I couldn't even tell what scent it was supposed to mimic. I'm pretty sure the twit drenched in it was wearing several kinds. There was too much going on for her not to be. The door slid shut, sealing in the overpowering scents.

"Draco! There you are! Have you…?" I sneezed and they stopped mid-sentence. "Draco, who is this?"

"Hey Pansy. Daphne." Draco didn't sound too enthusiastic compared to the girl that had spoken. "This is Hermione Moody."

"As in Mad Eye Moody?"

"For the love of Merlin!" I pulled my wand out of my wrist sheath, a gift from Kingsley, and silently cast a Bubble Head Charm. Clean air filtered into my lungs and I sneezed a few times to clear out the last of that horrid perfume. "What did you do? Bathe in ten different bottles of perfume?! Go wash it all off before you kill someone!"

A girl giggled behind her hand while the other scent-soaked one spluttered in rage. "How dare you talk to me in such a manner!"

"How dare I?" I could feel my magic tingling on the surface of my skin. "How dare I? How dare you walk around like that! Soaked in so many different types of perfumes that it suffocates everyone in your vicinity! Your mother should be ashamed of letting you out of the house in such a state! If you look as bad as you smell, then your parents should do the world a favor and lock you in your room!"

"I'll have you know…! Wait, are you **blind**?!"

Oh Merlin, she's one of those stupid bints that Uncle Al complains about. "Excellent observation, Sherlock. How long did it take you to notice?"

The cabin was filled with subdued snickers and the girl's enraged babbling. "Why you…" She paused to collect herself and continued with a haughty, condescending tone. "What was that old coot Dumbledore thinking with letting a little, blind girl attend Hogwarts. Have the standards really sunk so low?"

Oh, I am going to destroy this bint. "I wholeheartedly agree. There used to be a rule against cows as familiars, but here you are! On the Hogwarts Express!"

The snickers turned into full blown laughter and the angry bovine shrieked in anger and stormed out of the cabin. I didn't remove the charm as the cabin needed to air out first. A flick of my wand had the window sliding open.

My hand was clasped between two soft, warm ones. "Let me just say that it is my extreme pleasure to meet you, Hermione Moody. I'm Daphne Greengrass and the girl you out-insulted is Pansy Parkinson."

"Oh, that explains so much." Where I came from, amongst the Muggles, the term pansy was applied to those who were especially cowardly and craven. I gave the hands a firm shake. "It's nice to meet you, Daphne."

We all took a seat when the train pulled out of the station and I entertained my companion's questions of my 'blindness'. The trolley lady came around and I purchased some sugar quills and chocolate frogs. My new friends were all too willing to open and catch the frogs for me and I let them. It would be odd for a blind girl to catch a frog mid-hop. Besides, they just wanted to be nice.

The door opened again and the timid voice of a boy strained over the sound of the engine. "Excuse me. Has anyone seen a toad? Trevor escaped his cage again."

Poor boy. "I haven't, but I'm more than willing to help you search for him."

My cabin-buddies tried to dissuade me, saying that I could get lost and that I wouldn't be much help anyway. How could I find a toad without my sight?

"I'm not going off to battle a Horntail! Besides, I'll hear the toad far before Neville sees it." With that, I left the cabin with Neville to guide me. He insisted. As we moved from cabin to cabin, the things I heard either intrigued or disgusted me. And this Lee person needs to be reported to the nearest authority figure! No one is allowed to bring anything other than a cat, owl, or toad! Where did he get a giant tarantula anyway?!

Neville, I have to say, is very sweet. He may be a bit timid and some would say craven, but it was obvious to me that he was raised being compared to an idol of some sort. A successful older sibling maybe. "I'd like to thank you again for helping me."

"It's no trouble. Would you please go inform the trolley maid that someone has brought contraband on the train? I'll keep looking for Trevor."

"Okay! I'll be right back!" I heard his footsteps as he stumbled along to the front of the train, searching for a member of staff.

I continued on, keeping my senses open for any amphibians. I heard a faint ribbit and honed in on the cabin it came from. I opened the door, but the only animal in the room was a caged owl and… an Animagus? The magic surrounding the man-rat was dark greens and greys. What the hell is an Animagus doing on the train? And one of the bodies, a boy, had this aura of dark magic centered around a spot on his head. It practically radiated evil. I ignored it for now, instead focusing on the task at hand. I know I heard the ribbit. "Pardon me, but have any of you seen a toad? A boy lost his and I'm certain I heard one in here."

"What the bloody hell are you wearing that crown for?" The rough and arrogant voice fluctuated a little, as if he turned to address someone else. "Bet you anything she's a stuck up pureblood! Every last one of 'em thinks their bloody royalty!"

"Oh god, their breeding." I mumbled under my breath. First Pansy, now this tosser.

Another voice interrupted. It was more docile than the other, but had the faint hint of iron beneath his dulcet tone. "I think she's blind, Ron. Look, she has a walking stick and she said she _heard_ a toad in here. Sorry miss, I think you mistook a chocolate frog for the toad you're looking for. Sorry if we bothered you."

Of course.

I nodded and turned away, only to turn back at the sour earthy scent of an unwashed body coming from the uncouth boy that had snapped at me so rudely. "When was the last time you had a bath? Clean yourself up, would you? I bet anything that you've got dirt smeared on your face."

I barely managed to close the door firmly without slamming it and moved along the hallway. When I had searched the whole train, alongside Neville since he returned, he excused himself so that he could change into his robes. I meandered back to my cabin, grateful that I had arrived in my robes. Draco and Daphne greeted me warmly and they talked about Hogwarts and the House they hoped to be Sorted into. Each one came from a long line of Slytherins so they had to be Slytherin, too. "What about you, Hermione? What House were your par… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought them up. Draco told me…"

"It's fine. I've grieved for my parents, though I try not to think about them. Their deaths were… it was a horrible way to go."

I'm sure Daphne was beating herself up over her blunder. Draco provided distraction. "So Hermione, what House do you hope to be Sorted into?"

I crossed my arms and shook my head. "I honestly couldn't care less."

The four children gasped in unison. "How could you say that? I mean isn't there a House you'd prefer over others?"

I snorted in a way similar to my Uncle Al. "I will trust the… well, I trust that I will be placed in the House that best suits me and my needs. I've read all about Hogwarts' and I honestly can't say which House I'd do best in for I can be brave and daring, and loyal and hardworking, and creative and intelligent, and ambitious and cunning. I have a little of every House in me as does everybody else. A person shouldn't be Sorted based on bloodlines! It should be that a person is Sorted based on their prevalent traits that match up with the core values of a certain House!"

They were silent, hopefully contemplating my rant. Finally, Daphne voiced her agreement. "You know what? You're right. A student should be Sorted into a House that reflects them and their strengths, not their heritage."

Draco hummed, his clothes ruffling and alerting me to his movements. "That may be true, but our parents would disown us if we are Sorted into any other House than Slytherin. Do you recall the story of Sirius Black?"

"Draco! You know we aren't allowed to speak of him!" Daphne hissed.

"So what? Hermione needs to hear this!" Draco shuffled again, as did his overgrown goons. "Sirius Black is my mum's cousin. He was a descendant of the Great and Noble House of Black and it's heir. Despite everything his parents and ancestors did for him, he threw all of it away when he was Sorted into Gryffindor. Then to add insult to injury, he treated everyone in the House of Slytherin, even his own little brother, like shite! He's in Azkaban now. For all those bloody Gryffindors spew on about House loyalty and integrity, Sirius turned on his own best friend. Gave them up to the Dark Lord he did and killed another one of his supposed best friends."

I nodded dutifully. "I have heard this story before from my Uncle. Though everyone is content to wash their hands of that atrocious act so many years ago, I still find it odd and somewhat sickening that Mr. Black did not receive a trial. Not even a drop of Veritaserum to confirm the truth." In the Muggle world one was innocent until proven guilty. I found it disgusting how quickly they threw a man to the wolves.

Draco scoffed at my observation. "Why waste the Veritaserum when everyone knew he was guilty?"

I sniffed at his dismissive tone, not liking his attitude one bit. "It's the principal of the thing, Draco."

The rest of the train ride was uneventful. Daphne described the passing scenery and Draco and company went off to explore the train. When the train came to it's stop at Hogsmeade, Draco so graciously led me off the locomotive. The chatter over summer breaks and the upcoming year turned to whispers as the gathering students finally realized there was a 'blind' girl amongst them. I ignored it all and let Draco and Daphne guide me to the hulk that was shouting for first years. I could see the suppressed magic towering over the chaotic wisps moving to and fro, some crowding around the giant while the rest wandered off together in groups. As I was brought closer, the form bent over. "An' who do we 'ave 'ere?"

"This is Hermione Moody."

I bristled at being spoken for. "Thank you for the introduction, Mr. Malfoy."

"Well Miss Moody, seeing as you 'ave a bit of a seein' problem, would you like some help inta the boats?"

A bitter smile played along my lips. Of course I've been among people in my blindfold before, but I don't think I'd ever get used to the pity offers of assistance. "Thank you, but I've been functioning without sight for well over four years. I think I can handle stepping into a boat without tipping it over."

The man hummed in his deep voice and left me in the hands of my cabin mates. Unfortunately, it seemed that Draco already had plans with a certain cow.

"Draco! You promised you'd sit with me on the way to Hogwarts!"

My ears rang from the cow's shrill whining and I gladly left my guide in her grasp. Daphne stayed with me, though. And two of her other _pureblooded_ friends offered to join us. Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini were two wonderful gentlemen and didn't pester me with inane questions about my circlet or the reason I wore it. Instead, they shared their theories on just how first years were Sorted into their respective Houses. Theodore said that he heard we'd all have to defeat a Dragon. Blaise disagreed. He said we'd have to solve a puzzle and however we approached the problem would determine our House. I simply sat there and let them worry themselves stupid. Moody told me about the Sorting hat and that it allowed first years to choose. I thought it stupid. What's the point of having a Sorting hat when it won't even place you in the proper House?

I listened with envy as the children around me oohed and ahhed over the view of Hogwarts. It made me want to take off my blindfold, just for a peek, but it was too dangerous a risk for something as stupid as a view. I'll just ask Uncle to bring me here in the summer and I'll get to see then.

The sounds of the night became a little louder as we entered a cave. The smell of the lake at night was almost overwhelmed by mold and the odors of several small bodies packed too closely together. My ears ached as the chatter was magnified by the walls of what I assumed to be a cave and I found no peace until I was led up some stairs and into the halls of the school. A turn on a staircase, and I finally noticed the silvery gold magic of a female Animagus. She was strong and very mature, probably well into her eighties or older, and she waited patiently for the first years to gather on the stairs.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. I am Professor McGonagall." Her voice was stern yet melodious. I guessed she must have had a wonderful singing voice before age strained her vocal chords. "In just a few moments, you will walk through those doors and be Sorted into one of the four Houses of Hogwarts' founders; Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. Once you are Sorted, your House will be your family. Doing good deeds will earn you House points. Any rule breaking, and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points will be awarded the House Cup. Now if you'll wait a moment, I will be with you momentarily."

She walked away, her heels clacking assuredly on the floor, and the sound of a door closing silenced the sounds.

"Oh, it's you again. Did you ever find that frog you were looking for?"

I recognized the Dark Magicked boy from the train. "No, but I can hear it bouncing up the stairs. I hope the poor thing doesn't get crushed before Mr. Longbottom catches it." As if on cue, I heard Neville shout for Trevor and the toad's ribbit as it was picked up against its will. Poor thing. Probably a hand me down.

The boy inhaled to respond, but the other boy with ghastly manners intruded. "Harry! Don't talk to her! See who she's hanging onto like a bloody leech?"

My companions bristled at the boy's tone. I heard Draco's scoff and his footsteps as he came closer. "Of course she's holding tight to Theo. If you haven't noticed, she can't exactly see where she's going. He's just helping her."

"Draco, don't argue with idiots. They'll drag you down to their level and beat you with experience." Everyone around me snickered. The boy, however, was not pleased. He growled in rage at being humiliated and I heard the soft whoosh of a wand being pulled. Before I knew it, I was shoved behind a group of bodies and several other wands were out and pointed at the boy.

Draco was speaking in a low hiss in an attempt to sound threatening. "Living in the dirt has sullied your clothes and your honor, for only a person with no honor would pull their wand on a girl who can't see it coming."

I heard the door open and moved to lower Draco's wand arm. "Professor McGonagall is coming back. Put your wand away or you'll get in trouble."

Wands were put away faster than I could say hopscotch and the only evidence of the almost fight was the tension in the air. Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "We are ready for you now. Follow me."

A warm hand clasped my free one and I was led up the rest of the stairway and into the hall. The swoosh of large, double doors opening and the people in front gasped in awe. I bet they were looking at the charmed ceiling that resembled the night sky. Again, something I desperately wanted to see, but removing the mask now would be even more disastrous considering all the people chatting away within the great room. As I was guided down the aisle, more whispers about my being blind filled my head. Some were wondering why I was wearing such an ostentatious piece. Others pondered how a blind girl could perform magic. I wanted to smack those people upside the head with a chair. Sure I wasn't actually blind, but it wouldn't stop me even if I was. I could still say spells. I could still listen to books.

Bastards.

I was stopped by a light tug from Theo's hand. The hat before me, appearing to float in mid air, had magic laced in every stitch. The magic was sentient, watching us all with bored indifference. I'm sure to him, it was just another batch of empty-headed first years to be Sorted. I'd probably feel the same way if I were a Sorting hat.

"Now when I call your name, you will come up and I will place the Sorting hat on your head. The House he calls shall be yours for the next seven years."

Simple enough. Even a complete dunderhead couldn't botch it up.

Deputy Headmistress McGonagall cleared her throat. The rustle of parchment tickled my ears and she called out the first name. "Abbot, Hannah."

A girl in front of me released a shaky breath of nervousness and ascended the three steps to join McGonagall. The sentient hat was placed upon the girl's aura of soft gold. The hat was silent for no longer than two seconds before it came to its decision and exclaimed the girl's House. "Hufflepuff!"

One of the tables behind me burst into applause and the girl's aura glowed brightly with joy as she took her place among her new Housemates.

And on it went. Susan Bones into Hufflepuff. Terry Boot into Ravenclaw. Mandy Brocklehurst into Ravenclaw. Lavender Brown into Gryffindor. Millicent Bulstrode into Slytherin. Michael Corner into Ravenclaw. Vincent Crabbe into Slytherin. Tracy Davis into Slytherin. Justin Finch-Fletchley into Hufflepuff. Seamus Finnigan into Gryffindor. Anthony Goldstein into Ravenclaw. Gregory Goyle and Daphne Greengrass into Slytherin. Wayne Hopkins and Megan Jones into Hufflepuff. Sue Li into Ravenclaw. Neville Longbottom, sweet boy, into Gryffindor. Morag MacDougal into Ravenclaw. Ernie Macmillian into Hufflepuff. Draco Malfoy into Slytherin.

Then it was my turn.

"Moody, Hermione."

I took a deep breath to calm myself and nearly squeaked when a hand took the one Malfoy had abandoned when he was called forth. "Do you want me to help you up?"

"Thank you Nott, but I believe I can handle a few steps on my lonesome. I've been doing this for years." I used my cane to detect the first step and easily made my way up without tripping. A wrinkled yet warm hand helped me onto the stool. The light weight of the hat was dropped on my head and I could hear a masculine voice inside my skull.

" _Ah. Blind indeed! You can see just as well as anyone else, if not better. Though that gaze of yours could cause quite a bit of trouble. Oh yes. This circlet of yours is more for everyone's safety than your own. If I were you, I'd watch out for the Ravenclaw's inquisitive nature. One of them might get to curious and break that little charm on your blindfold only to pay the price with their lives."_

I shuddered to think of some poor child dying because they were too nosy for their own good. I didn't know if the hat could hear me or not, but I couldn't exactly speak out to answer him. _I don't think that will be a problem. "This circlet has been enchanted by goblins and wizards alike. Now shouldn't you be Sorting me?"_

" _I'm thinking over it. Though you have the wit and creativity for Ravenclaw, I don't think you'd fit in there. The Hufflepuff's won't try anything, but I don't think you'd excel in there. Your values of friendship and integrity would no doubt lead you to success in Gryffindor, but those lot would turn on you if they discovered your little secret. You do have the ambition of Slytherin, but they will kill you should they discover your true heritage, Miss Granger."_

" _It's Moody. Hermione Sylvia Moody. Hermione Granger is long dead."_

" _Is that so?" My brain vibrated with his hum of thought. "Well, you are a tricky one. You have the heart of a Gryffindor, the mind of a Ravenclaw, the ethics of a Slytherin, and the soul of a Hufflepuff. But where will you do best?"_

The students were starting to whisper among themselves. It seemed I have been up here for quite awhile. Much longer than the other students before me. I guess they're getting bored with waiting. " _How about this? I need a Head of House that will take my secret to the grave should they discover it. I need someone who will understand the situation and will help to keep it safe from both staff and students should they ever become informed."_

" _Hm…. A secret keeper, eh? I know the perfect place for you. Good thing too because I was going to put you there anyway. I wish you the best of luck in…_ "Slytherin!"

A table burst into applause. " _Thank you."_

" _Watch your back, Moody."_

The hat was removed and I slipped off the stool. Someone ran up the stairs to take my hand. "Come on, Hermione. We're over here." Draco's sharp voice was soft when addressing me.

I tapped my walking stick along the steps. "Thank you for the offer, but I do believe I can find the table myself." I started for the general direction of the applause.

He grabbed my hand anyway. "I insist! Wouldn't want any of those nasty heathens to trip you up."

"I doubt anyone would be stupid enough to trip a blind girl in view of the staff, but I may be wrong. Alright! Lead the way!" He guided me down the stairs and to the Slytherin table. I was greeted warmly by my Housemates and they chatted quietly while the rest of the first years to be Sorted. Everyone went quiet when Harry Potter's name was called. His Sorting took a little longer than the others as well until eventually the hat called out Gryffindor. Said group burst into wild applause, expressing their elation at having a living legend in their House. The rude boy from early, Ronald Weasley, was Sorted into the same House. My opinion of Gryffindor sunk a few tiers. "Gryffindor is supposed to be a House of courage and integrity. That rodent wouldn't know either if they kicked in the door wearing his mother's knickers and proceeded to beat him upside the head with a bloody trout."

Draco snorted, "Don't I know it. That House is full of nothing but stupid risk takers with no sense of self-preservation. If you told them that there was treasure in the Black Lake, they'd drown themselves looking for it."

I arched an eyebrow at the boy. "You know, the Sorting hat almost placed me in Gryffindor. The only reason he didn't was because I asked for a House with a Head I could trust with any secret. Who is our Head of House, anyway?"

Another boy's voice, older and deeper than Draco's, answered. "Snape."

I waited patiently for him to continue, but he didn't elaborate. Daphne did it for him. "Snape is the youngest teacher on staff. See? He's the one sitting beside Professor Quirrell, the one wearing the turban."

I turned on que. "You're right. Handsome devil, isn't he? With his long, blond locks and pretty blue eyes. I bet he's a lady killer."

"What are you…? Oh Morgana! I'm so sorry!"

I swiveled in my seat, wearing as much of a deadpan expression as m blindfold allowed. "Whatever are you apologizing for? I'm only _looking_ at our Head of House."

Daphne inhaled deeply. "I am so sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"You get one. I inherited more than my eyes from my Uncle Al, not that anyone could tell since my… accident." The Sorting was finally over and the Headmaster Dumbledore stood and said three random words before beginning the welcoming feast. A few people helped me load my plate, much to my aggravation, and stopped trying to feed me when I snapped at them. "I've been blind for well over four years! I can feed myself just fine!"

After the feast, Dumbledore explained a few rules. The Dark Forest was forbidden to all students without a staff escort, the third floor on the west wing side was off limits, and any students caught dueling in the halls would face consequences. We were released to the care of the Prefects and us Slytherin first years were led through the halls and down into the dungeons. The Prefects, two people whose names I honestly couldn't remember nor cared to learn, went on about the history of Slytherin and why it was the greatest House in Hogwarts while they led us to our dorms.

One of them, the male, slipped up.

And I was ready.

"See this wall here? Quite ordinary looking, isn't it? Well, looks are deceiving in this case. This is actually the entrance to the Slytherin common room and dorms."

He didn't have to say anything for me to realize that this was the secret entrance. I could see the magic in is particular hunk of bricks was different from the others. Instead of each brick's magic interlacing with the others around it, the magic of these bricks didn't link together. They were separate and had that same look and shade of a word activated spell. I pasted a broad grin on my face. "I have to disagree. This wall is much more good looking than the other walls. More dignified."

The female Prefect giggled as the boy sputtered like a fool. "Are you blind?!"

"Why yes! Yes I am! How kind of you to notice." I deadpanned.

"Oh." The boy grew silent. "Well, uh… anyway, the password is changed every fortnight, so be sure to read the bulletin board every two weeks or so to stay updated. If you forget the password or didn't check to see the new one, do not rely on us to help you. You'll have to sit outside and wait for someone to let you inside."

"Right then! Tell me, should I read it outloud for all to hear or do I have to read silently to myself? You all probably don't want to be bothered."

The boy's groan was muffled as if he had his face buried into his hands. "Bloody hell… I'll ask Professor Snape to charm the board so that it says the new passwords out loud for Miss Moody. The password for now is Grindylow."

The wall came to life and the bricks parted, swiveling backwards to form a doorway. The magic that formed the door was glowing somewhat brightly. It was times like these that I wondered how people couldn't **not** see magic.

We were ushered through, being led into a cavernous room filled with every student in the Slytherin House. I could tell the room's size by the echo of sound and the cool air. It just felt spacious. "Professor Snape will address us before all of you head to your dorms. You all must listen and pay close attention, for he does not suffer fools gladly. If you were not paying attention, no one here will help you. If you do not understand, it is better to come to us Prefects for clarification."

Not a second later, a door flew open and any whispers were cut off. The only sound in the room was the clacking of Dragonhide boots and the quickening heartbeats of the children around me. The magic of this man was darker than others. His gunmetal silver form was tainted with a sickly green around his left arm. However, among the dark backdrop, I could 'see' that our supposedly nasty Head of House was inherently good. He just hid it very well.

"I don't care about your petty problems. I couldn't care less if you all hate each other and wish death on everyone present. When you are in this common room, it is everybody for themselves. When you are within these walls, your business is not my concern. However, when you are wandering the halls, when you are sitting in class, eating your lunch, and playing your silly games, **that** concerns me. The moment you leave this common room, you are to leave your petty grudges behind. When you are outside of these walls, each one of you are just one head of a single snake. You **will** show the other Houses that we are one entity. To attack one is to attack all. If you see one of our Housemates being bullied, you will step in to defend them whether you like them or not. Should you walk away, stay and watch, or dare join in and I hear about it, and I promise you I will, you shall dearly wish that you had never set foot on the train for Hogwarts. Do I make myself clear?"

Everyone answered as one. "Yes, sir."

Snape continued, "If you duel in the common room, you will fix whatever you break. Should anyone outside of Slytherin pull their wand on you, you will end the fight as quickly as possible and inform me immediately. You will not instigate fights in the halls. If you do, you will be serving detention with Mr. Filch. Does everyone understand?"

"Yes, sir."

The man regarded us silently for a moment. "You are dismissed." Everyone dispersed, the male and female Prefects leading the first years to their respective dorms. "Except for Miss Moody."

I stopped in my tracks. Daphne leaned close to whisper in my ear. "Would you like me to wait for you?"

"No. Why don't you go find my dorm for me so you can lead me to it directly."

Daphne agreed and wished me luck before following after the girls. I made my way to Professor Snape. He placed a light hand on my elbow and led me to his office. The smell of dust and parchment was subtle, almost hidden behind his scent of spices and ink. It was pleasant enough. It wasn't the worst scent I've ever come across.

He guided me to a chair and left to take his own. The leather creaked beneath his body. It sounded very comfortable. "I'm not going to tiptoe around the subject, Miss Moody. I'm certain you're sick of it by now. Hogwarts has never had a blind student before, at least no one that was recorded. I am uncertain as to how you will proceed with your academic career, especially in my class. Every class requires sight to succeed and you are obviously missing said sense."

I huffed and tapped my walking stick against the ground. "With all due respect, sir, I have been studying under my uncle ever since I was released into his care. I have learned how to function without my sight and I promise you that I will perform just as well as any other student in my classes!"

Snape heaved a sigh. "Alright, Miss Moody. If you say that you can keep up with your classmates and even excel, I will let you have the opportunity to try. Should you find yourself overwhelmed or unsure of how to proceed, I am willing to open my door for you. However, if you fall too far behind, I'll have you sent back to your uncle to continue homeschooling as I don't have time to cater to your needs."

I nodded my understanding. I would not give him the opportunity to send me home. "May I leave now, sir? I need to get settled and learn the layout of my dorm."

"You may." I stood up and tapped my way to the door. When my hand touched the door, Snape spoke again. "If your roommates give you any trouble, let me know. I can have you moved to a private room."

I offered him a smile and another nod and left for the dorms. Daphne was waiting for me in the common room and dragged me to our dorm. Her chatter seemed endless as she went on and on about our room. "You and I will be sharing a room with Tracey Davis and Millicent Bulstrode, aren't you excited? Pansy is rooming with other girls, so she won't really have any reason to come into our dorm. I wouldn't put past her to sabotage and move your things around. She's vindictive like that. To be honest, all of us are, but that just comes with being a Slytherin. Better than being a peace-loving badger."

I smiled when a certain badger I knew popped into mind. "Actually, I am rather close with a graduated Hufflepuff. She's an Auror and she's actually quite the brawler. Don't be so quick to judge a person based on their House. Assuming things about a person can really bite you in the backside. My uncle says he knows from experience."

"I guess you're right. I mean Sirius was in Gryffindor and he turned on his friends!"

My good mood evaporated. "If you're smart, you won't bring that topic up around me. It royally pisses me off that he did not get a fair trial."

"Ooooh! The blind girl is getting angry! Whatever shall we do?"

The cloying scent of Parkinson hit me a second after her shrill voice did.

Like sharks to blood, the girls could smell the brewing battle. Should a fight actually start, no one could go to Snape for help. He practically said we were on our own when inside the common room. I figured that the dorms were a no-go as well.

If I were anybody else, raised in any different way, I would be cowering behind Daphne or running for an authority figure. Instead, I stood as Uncle Al taught me: with pride and confidence. Anything Parkinson could throw at me was nothing compared to what uncle has put me through. "Alright, who let the cow inside? Livestock are to be kept in their proper pens outdoors!"

"You little twat!" Pansy shrieked in indignation. I twisted my arm and silently called my wand to hand before Pansy could reach into her pocket. "It's about time someone taught you manners on how to respect your superiors!"

"Really? Professor Snape seems to think my manners are just fine."

"Oh yeah, I bet you and Snape are real cozy."

The crowd gasped. My skin tingled with disgust on Snape's behalf. "Excuse you? It almost sounds as if you are suggesting something inappropriate and I don't like it."

Pansy tried to chuckle, but it sounded all wrong. "So it's true then? Why else would that old bat call in a little blind girl like you? It makes sense if you think about it. There's no way they would let a blind girl attend class. Tell me, was it just Snape, or did you have to do the Headmaster, too?"

While she was giving fuel to the rumor mill, I was going through a list of spells that would shut her up for good. Parkinson was a drama mama, an attention whore that instigated trouble. Like serial killers and psychopaths, people like her wouldn't stop until someone made them. "I will give you ten seconds to take that back or you will sorely regret ever picking a fight with me.

"One."

"Oh no! The blind girl is angry!"

"Two."

"What are you gonna do? Swing that stick at me?"

"Ten!" I lifted my wand. "Suffocat Sanguine!"

Parkinson's taunts ended with a gurgle as she started coughing. Each hack was thick and wet. Girls screamed when Pansy collapsed on her knees, spitting and coughing up her own blood. I held the curse until she fell to her side and started whimpering through her clogged windpipe. I stopped the flow of magic powering the spell and sneered at the lump of magic curled on the floor.

"Insult me all you like, but don't you dare tarnish the reputation of your own House Head or the Headmaster!"

The same dark, tainted magic form of Professor Snape broke the circle around us and hovered over Pansy. His snarl was enough to send shivers down my spine and I wasn't even the one in trouble. "My office, Miss Parkinson. Now!"

It was deathly silent in the common room as Parinson shuffled away, broken by Draco's whispered, "Wow."

My reputation was set in stone that day and the story shared. Everyone would think twice before challenging me.


End file.
